


Needed Me

by grimeysociety



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Choking, Daddy Kink, F/M, POV Darcy Lewis, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 00:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20769611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: She hated, absolutely hated, the idea of being a damsel in distress. Being perceived as stupid or weak were the two things she despised most.





	Needed Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SerialObsessor (ibelieveinturtles)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/gifts).

> Allow me to finally invite myself to the Taserbones party. It was a long time coming, right? I wrote this with the dialogue prompt “Yes, I’m taking care of them. They’re coming home with me.” for ibelieveinturtles on Tumblr to celebrate 500 followers. I also took a prompt from the Promptkin Spice Challenge, "Ginger - biting and impassioned". I am not pretending this has plot. This is porn. Have fun reading! 
> 
> This title of this fic comes from the Rihanna [song of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfN4PVaOU5Q).

  
Banner by lefttennent

Darcy made some dumb decisions in her life. She was the first one to admit that, except for maybe Jane, who was quick to rant at her. Darcy wasn’t, however, stupid. It didn’t help that she was surrounded by literal geniuses. She and Scott Lang were in the same boat – everyone seemed to treat them like they knew nothing about everything, when the average IQ of the Tower was around 145.

She hated, absolutely hated, the idea of being a damsel in distress. Being perceived as stupid or weak were the two things she despised most.

So having Brock Rumlow end up in her bed made no fucking sense.

It was Friday night. She was drinking alone at a bar in Manhattan. She wore her work clothes, a burgundy cardigan over leggings and a soft t-shirt. It was still warmer those nights, and she nursed her glass of chardonnay, scrolling through her phone to watch videos on Instagram, the slime ones that were meant to calm people. She’d left the Tower because she was officially off the clock until Monday, 9AM. Jane would have to find someone else to help her if she was desperate enough, and Darcy had to keep reminding herself that boundaries were healthy.

“Hey, anyone sitting here?”

Darcy turned her head, and a guy in a sharp suit wearing too much cologne leaning against the bar beside her drink. Darcy turned her head back to stare straight ahead.

“No. Go ahead.”

That was her first mistake. She should have just lied and said no, she was waiting for someone, or her date was in the bathroom. She could have said so many other things instead of ‘no’. Darcy blamed her lack of thought on it being Friday night and that she was tired.

The guy sat beside her, glancing down at her phone.

“Had a good week? What are you drinking, anyway? You here with someone?”

Too many questions all at once. Darcy sighed.

“Yes. Chardonnay. No.”

“So you’re here by yourself?”

Darcy gave him another glance, seeing his gaze dip to her chest and she scooted a little further toward the edge of her stool, creating more distance.

“Yes.”

“So, can I buy you a drink?”

Darcy stared at him with an irritated expression on her face. She didn’t have the patience to pretend otherwise, her nose scrunching up, and her frown deepening.

“What?”

“Come on. You’re here alone. So am I –”

“So that entitles you to my time and attention?” she drawled, and she took a sip from her glass, shaking her head. “No thanks, chief. Skedaddle.”

“Are you – are you fucking serious?”

Darcy didn’t need to see his face to know the expression on it. Usually it took another beat or two before a guy turned on her, but maybe there was something in the air.

“Why’d you even come to a bar if you didn’t want attention?” the guy hissed, his voice lower.

She jolted when he touched her wrist and she ripped it away from him, glaring at him.

“Fuck off,” she snapped. “Get the fuck away from me.”

“Bitch,” he snarled, and Darcy only glared back at him, waiting.

And then the biggest cliché of her life occurred. A stern voice, a hand on her other shoulder.

“Is this guy bothering you, honey?”

She recognized the voice and turned her head, her eyes widening a fraction at the face she saw looking down at her. The muscly Italian asshole from work. She did her best to morph into something a little more convincing, a smile spreading across her face.

The stranger backed off immediately.

“Hey, man, she said she was by herself. I didn’t know.”

Typical, he was apologizing to the man he assumed he’d wronged, not Darcy. She watched the two men stare at one another.

“Yes, I’m taking care of them,” Rumlow said, his hand still resting on Darcy’s shoulder. “They’re coming home with me.”

The stranger moved on, his hands up. Darcy waited until he was out of earshot before she shrugged off his hand, picking up her glass again to finish it off.

“You enjoyed that way too much,” she murmured, swallowing. “But thanks, I guess.”

“I wasn’t kidding. I’m taking you home. It’s almost last call and you’re attracting some desperate characters.”

Darcy rose an eyebrow, tempted to point out he was one of them.

“I was doing fine. You can skedaddle, too.”

He made some scoffing sound, and Darcy glanced up at him.

“What?”

“I’m not going without you,” he said.

He was talking to her like she was his child, and Darcy tried to not think about what that was doing to her insides, the way her stomach twisted at his bossy tone.

So maybe Rumlow ending up in her bed wasn’t so outrageous. It made sense, in its own warped kind of way. Kind of like the first time someone put sea salt and dark chocolate together.

Darcy hopped off the stool, leaning closer with her hands on her hips, watching his face to see him react. She’d been inappropriate before, with no real consequences.

“You saw me across the room and decided to stick your nose in my business?”

“Was I somehow reading that wrong?” he retorted. “Pretty sure you were seconds away from whipping out your taser, and that would have been a fuckload of paperwork to get through if I let that happen.”

“You wouldn’t _tattle_ on me, Agent?” Darcy said, tilting her head.

His face changed at the title. She turned and picked up her bag, the strap on her shoulder as she threw down some notes for her drink. She didn’t wait for him to reply, only took off to the exit.

He was right behind her, and she pushed the door open, stepping out into the night. She kept walking, feeling his eyes on her.

“You didn’t answer my question before,” she said, and she swung her eyes toward him.

“What, about me watching you from afar?”

“Yeah,” she replied, drawing the word out. She chuckled.

“I was watching you,” he said, which Darcy did not expect. She was used to teasing things out of people. Grown men were still the worst to get to talk, despite the range of ages they all came in. Except Rumlow seemed to challenge that.

“Don’t have time for games?” Darcy muttered.

She stopped walking, turned so she almost collided with him. There weren’t a lot of people in the street. She probably would have walked back to the Tower with her keys between her fingers if she was alone.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” he muttered, and she smiled.

“I’m _fun_. I get the feeling you haven’t had fun in a while.”

He always got the same expression on his face when she happened to walk by him at work. He was rarely alone. He composed himself better with his men around him, but Darcy always felt his eyes. Whenever he was alone he became irresistible. Darcy wondered how far she could push him.

She remembered the time she told him Happy Father’s Day, knowing he absolutely had no children. She let that ruminate for months and nothing came of it until tonight.

The more she thought about it, the less surprised she was overall. Brock Rumlow in her bed was bound to happen.

He kissed her when they were in the elevator going up to her apartment. Darcy’s breath hitched when he turned on her, pressing her into the metal of the elevator wall, his hands on either side of her waist, caging her in.

There was no skirting around, only tongue and teeth with him. When the elevator doors opened, Darcy ducked out with him right behind her, his hips pressing into her ass as she fumbled for her key.

“Nervous, Darcy?” he whispered into her ear and she felt herself shiver.

“No, never,” she retorted, unable to keep her voice neutral.

He picked her up the second they slipped inside, and he carried her down the hall to her room, landing on top of her. A second later, he was tugging off her clothes, Darcy’s hands grabbing at his shirt.

“You’re wearing a condom and then you’re leaving, alright?” she said, and he kissed her again, her moan escaping when his hands reached inside her leggings, pushing two fingers inside her.

He hissed at the tight heat of her and Darcy grinned in triumph, only to breathe raggedly a second later, his fingers curling and pressing up to her G-spot.

“Fuck – _fuck!”_ she yelped, and he chuckled at her outrage. She squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering when he fucked her hard and fast with his fingers, only stopping when she grabbed his wrist, trying to move away from him.

She leaned back on her elbows, panting as he pulled off the rest of his clothes, her eyes dipping to see his thick cock, the way it bobbed between his legs.

“Condoms –” she leaned over to grab one from her bedside table, tossing it to him. “- put it on.”

He obliged, tugging Darcy closer when he was done, turning her onto her stomach. Darcy drew up one leg, feeling his hand grasp her hip. Then came his tip brushing up against her cunt and she stilled, hissing.

“Fuck, don’t tease me, Brock –”

He pushed inside her and she moaned, leaning forward until her face was in the bedspread.

“Jesus,” she whispered, her face burning. He was so deep inside her she couldn’t contain herself, her moans growing louder as he rocked, filling her to the hilt, and one of her hands scrambled to grab his thigh behind her.

All she could hear was their ragged panting and their skin smacking together. She felt his hands grab at her hips and then pull her upright, pawing at her chest while his hips snapped like a metronome.

“Choke me,” she whispered, and his hand transferred to her throat, gripping her tight enough that she felt a wave of arousal pool between her legs. She was in fucking heaven.

“Fuck… _yes_…”

He didn’t stop there. With his other hand he went to press down on her clit and Darcy whimpered, tensing all over. She came, her nails digging into his neck as he bit her, fucked her through it all.

He pushed her back down, flattening her to the bed, driving into her hard and fast, making her cry out. He came with his head pressing into the back of hers, both hands around her neck.

“Fuck,” he gasped, and Darcy began to laugh.

He pulled out of her, panting beside her on the bed, Darcy sitting up with some difficulty, her legs shaking as she walked off to the bathroom. By the time she came back, he’d disposed of the condom and passed out under the blankets.

Darcy lifted one of his arms and slipped under it, rolling onto her side. He stirred, before sighing and tugging her closer so he was the big spoon, Darcy the little spoon. She felt his lips brush her neck.

“So… no objections to me calling you Daddy?” she asked.

To her surprise, she heard Brock chuckle in her ear, no objections whatsoever. 

**Author's Note:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


End file.
